


Saltwater and Ash

by thepetulantpen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Mutual Pining, because i just cant help myself, cross-posted from my tumblr, implied ace fjord in chap2, jester and beau are great wingwoman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepetulantpen/pseuds/thepetulantpen
Summary: Originally prompt fills for Widofjord week 2019, now cross-posted from my tumblr!1- Promises/Instincts2- Insecurity/Intimacy
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	1. Promises/Instincts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, these are around a year old, but I'm archiving all my old tumblr fics, so better late than never!

“C’mon, don’t you trust me?”

Fjord extends his hand with a charming smile, as dramatic as always.

Caleb rolls his eyes and says, “Absolutely not,” but he takes Fjord’s hand anyway, squeezing tight.

Fjord only winks, mutters something arcane under his breath, and then they’re hurtling through the air, up, up, _up_.

They land with an ear splitting boom, rocks cracking and flying out around them. Their landing forms a small crater in the outcropping of the mountain Fjord chose for their evening together. The view from the top of the cliff is rather pretty, though Caleb isn’t sure it was worth the threat to his blood pressure.

They can see everything from up here, the empty wasteland of the Barbed Fields and the silhouette of the Wildmother’s tree. From this perspective, the danger isn’t nearly as intimidating- Caleb would even call it beautiful.

He can see the edges of the circular impact of the barbs, spiraling out into the wasteland where they’ve been reclaimed by the dry earth and repurposed by the animals that have managed to survive here. The remnants of the most violent battle in their history are now used as a resting place for birds and a scratching post for larger beasts.

It says something, he thinks, about this world that the weapons that almost destroyed it can be useful, even helpful, for the life that continues after the Calamity. He supposes it’s a metaphor he or Fjord might have use for, but he’s a bit distracted at the moment by the view, not of the Fields, but of Fjord.

Fjord stares off into the distance, hands on his hips and looking incredibly proud of himself for managing to not get them killed in the process of securing this spot. The dusty wind ruffles his hair and blows the stray strands of his undercut, which is becoming overgrown now, into a tangled approximation of his usual style. The dying sun lights his eyes and his smile, reflecting across the beginnings of regrown tusks.

Fjord turns and the full power of his reckless grin is directed towards Caleb, who’s smiling back before he even means to, unrestrained and bright.

Something feels good when he lets Fjord take the reins, lets himself be swept up in the chaos, the impulse, the mindlessness of it all. The adrenaline warms his blood and makes him feel alive, fire in his veins sparking to life and lighting up his body, which too often feels like an ashen husk.

The light changes as the sun sinks lower on the horizon and Fjord tilts his head up to see it.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

Fjord steps a little closer to the edge, getting a better view of the sunset, or maybe something he’s seen in the Fields, Caleb isn’t sure. He doesn’t look where he steps, never has and never will, but Caleb does and he sees a crack in the rock widen under Fjord’s weight just before he grabs Fjord’s arm and tugs him backward.

Startled, Fjord stumbles and falls partially into Caleb, who resorts to pulling him into a full embrace to support him and force him back a couple more steps. It’d be almost like dancing, if they weren’t watching a wedge of rock come loose and fall down the mountainside, right where Fjord would’ve been.

Caleb relaxes his hold but Fjord doesn’t move, face very close to Caleb’s and eyes locked on his.

“Thanks,” he recovers his smile, leans in, and presses his forehead against Caleb’s, “You’re always saving me. I’ll have to make it up to you sometime.”

“Mm,” Caleb presses closer, cheek against Fjord’s and lips close to his ear, “One day I’ll have to take you up on all those IOUs you make. Tonight, perhaps.”

“I fear I’ve built up an extensive debt.”

“You have,” Caleb chuckles and grabs Fjord’s hand, holding it up as he would if they were dancing, “but don’t worry. No matter how much you owe me, I’ll always save you.”

Fjord settles his hand on Caleb’s hip and turns them slowly, shifting back and forth in the small space they have on the ledge. Caleb is so distracted by the last rays of the sun forming a halo around Fjord, filtering through the messy strands of his hair, and Fjord’s eyes, smile and warm hands that he doesn’t notice Fjord change their position subtly, until he’s suddenly being dipped, hair brushing against the rocks under his head.

Fjord’s hands shake with Caleb’s weight, even light as he is, but his voice doesn’t shake when asks Caleb, “Is that a promise?”

Caleb smiles and, instead of answering, laces his fingers through Fjord’s hair and pulls him down for a kiss. He manages that for a few seconds before Fjord’s grip fails and Caleb has to throw out a hand to catch himself. Fjord also catches himself, landing sideways to barely avoid crushing Caleb. They laugh and it’s probably that sound that keeps them from hearing the sharp cracks in the rocks below them.

Apparently, the cliff has excellent poetic timing and the strain of them dancing, combined with the damage from their initial landing, proves too much for it as it shatters, large portions of rock breaking off and sliding down the cliff-face.

Taking Fjord and Caleb with them.

Fjord shouts, helpfully, and flails vaguely toward Caleb who’s hurriedly digging through his coat pockets, seizing the feather he kept within reach in case of such an incident. He grasps it tightly and finishes muttering the spell just as Fjord grabs him, holding on tight as rocks rain down around them.

Their descent slows, suspending them in the air to watch as the rocks shatter into a million pieces on the ground hundreds of feet below them.

Fjord eases his grip, taking Caleb’s hand instead. Caleb holds onto his other hand, forming a small circle between them as they lay horizontally on the cushion of gravity he created. They turn in place slowly, momentum taking them for a gradual spin on the way down. Remaining dust and pebbles from the rocks settle in their hair and form a thin cloud around them that twinkles oddly in the moonlight, like stardust.

None of this is especially unexpected for either of them. It is instinct, at this point, for Caleb to pull Fjord back from various physical and metaphorical precipices, cautioning against stepping onto unsteady ground or charging into suicide missions. It’s instinct, after all this time, for Fjord to demand that Caleb occasionally leaps off a few cliffs, escaping the high ground he’s stranded himself on in an effort to keep himself away from people that might hurt him, or people he might hurt.

They land softly, awkwardly collapsing against the ground and recovering from their odd position.

Fjord looks at Caleb and there’s a strangely torn look on his face, a mix of fear that he’s gone too far, pushed Caleb beyond his limits, and absolute delight at the thrill-seeking evening they’ve had.

Caleb pushes to his feet and helps Fjord up, with some difficulty and teamwork.

He gives Fjord a broad smile and pulls him close for not the last time that night.

“It’s a promise.”


	2. Insecurity/Intimacy

“Fjord, you’re an idiot. Just talk to him,” Beau rolls her eyes at Fjord’s terrified expression, “It’s not like you’re strangers. I’ve seen you seduce shopkeepers and pirates, this is not new territory for you.”

“But he’s,” Fjord cuts himself off, staring distractedly at Caleb, who’s dutifully studying at the bar even as Jester pesters him, “he’s so smart. And talented. I can’t measure up to that, I have no idea what I’m doing half the time.”

Looking at Caleb almost makes the whole situation worse, his careful poise and resolute concentration are something Fjord deeply respects, and fears he’ll never achieve himself. Memories of Caleb bending fire into precise and strategic configurations, and Caleb channeling the group’s energy into something productive, or at least not destructive, come to mind. To Fjord, it’s as if Caleb can control chaos itself, so unlike how Fjord lets it rule him and inform his stupidest decisions.

Beau watches as Caleb attempts to drink from his glass without taking his eyes off his book. Half the water misses his mouth and goes down his shirt, but instead of saving his clothes, Caleb starts fussing with his book, worrying over a few drops that may have gotten on the pages.

Fjord sighs next to her, staring at Caleb with dreamy eyes. _He’s in pretty deep._

“Yeah, real capable. But, hey,” she jostles Fjord to pull his attention away from Caleb, “you’re capable too. You’re cool, people like you. You’re suave, you’re handsome, and you can do this.”

Fjord looks at her, finally, and his eyes shine with insecurity. It’s weird to see that look on Fjord’s face, typically so composed and confident.

“You think so?”

“I know so, man. Now get over there before I have to kick your ass for being all mopey.”

…

“ _Caleb_ , you can’t run from your feelings much longer,” Jester waggles her fingers in Caleb’s face, trying to get him to pay attention, “They’ll catch up to you eventually.”

“He’s out of my league, Jester. Give it a rest already.” Caleb flips a page of his book, having given up reading an hour ago and now focusing on looking disaffected.

“He _is not_.”

“He is. Besides,” Caleb bites his lip, forcing his tone to be factual- _not_ disappointed, “I wouldn’t want to bring him down with all my worries.”

Caleb doesn’t even want to look at Fjord, just the thought of him is intimidating enough. He imagines Fjord is sitting at the bar, suave as always with that easy, confident smile and decisive, unburdened charm, and talking up some stranger, winning them over with a few words and a wink. Sure, Caleb could do his fair share of convincing, but not easily, not confidently. Not like Fjord, who seems so free and unrestrained by his own demons, even numerous as they are.

Jester glances over at Fjord, who is openly staring at Caleb, longing weighing down his eyes and slight frown. If she could just get him to look up from his damn book, maybe Caleb would see it to.

“Caleb, just go talk to him. Have one fun night, it won’t kill you.”

Caleb levels her a Look and she giggles, then pats her bag.

“Even if it does, I’ve got my Revivify diamond ready to go.”

They have a short staring contest as Jester watches the thoughts turn over and over in Caleb’s head, deliberating until he finally gives up, giving into Jester’s pressure. Caleb sighs and very _slowly_ closes his book. Infuriatingly, at least for Jester, he turns his back on Fjord to face her.

“You really think I should?”

“ _Yes_ , Caleb.” _For everyone’s sake, please end the pining._

Caleb stands from his seat and walks down the bar, meeting Fjord halfway.

…

It’s a good night. It’s a simple, uncomplicated night.

It’s barely different from other nights- they talk and drink and tell jokes just the same as they have in the months they’ve known each other. The only discernible difference is that they sit closer and don’t take their eyes off each other for hours. Everyone else fades from view until it’s just Fjord and Caleb.

They retire to Fjord’s room and it’s a weird feeling to know everyone is watching them, expecting them to, well, _you know_.

They don’t, for the record, but it doesn’t matter because they’re in a room alone for the first time and there’s an even playing field in here, where they’re not a powerful wizard and a charming face-man. Just two people, struggling with an equal sense of not being enough.

They put aside all those insecurities- not handsome enough, not powerful enough, not smart enough- and just hold hands, pressed close against each other.

Fjord takes off his armor and Caleb takes off his coat. It feels nice to remove those layers and bear their real, vulnerable selves to each other, not because they _need_ to but because they _want_ to.

It’s _intimate_ , but not intimacy like Fjord is used to. It’s not fast, it’s not hot, it’s not _demanding_.

It’s slow, warm, easy.

They bask in each other’s company, not needing to do anything but exist here. Warm body against warm body, pulse against pulse.

When their voices fade into the silence of the night and their joints start to ache from staying in the same spot for too long, they lay down together. Simply comfortable on the bed, under the covers. It’s warm, it’s nice, there’s no pressure.

“Caleb?” Fjord is loath to break the silence, and this comfortable balance they’ve built in the dark, but he wants to know.

“Mm?”

“What took us so long?”

Caleb laughs at that and turns over, tucking his head against Fjord’s chest. “I don’t know, but it was a rather big waste of time.”

“Heh, can’t argue with you there.”

Caleb clutches Fjord tighter and they both know the answer to Fjord’s question, but the moment is comforting anyway, a reaffirmation of these feelings they have and how good it feels to finally be able to indulge them.

Slowly, they fall asleep in each other’s arms and no dreams plague them that night.

They sleep and feel protected, safe, loved. They are enough. For each other, for themselves, for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little OOC, but I sacrificed for cuteness. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed some old fic in these trying times! I'm cleaning out the backlog of stuff that's only posted on my tumblr- much easier to archive here (pun intended).


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